Mizpah
by TheGreenBook
Summary: The year is 1937, and James Herondale is preparing for his father's death. One shot. Please read and enjoy!


**Author's Note: This is a drabble prompt given to me that grew into something more. Please read, review, and enjoy, as much as you can.**

**Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I own none of these characters. This is a work of fiction based on the characters in Cassandra Clare's Infernal Devices series. No money is being made on this work. This is a work of fiction and should be treated as such. I will accept critiques but not flames. Reviews are most definitely encouraged. Please enjoy!**

**Mizpah**

It was early in the evening when James finally stood from where he had been sitting at the end of his father's bed and slipped out of the bedroom, not looking back. He was unable to say neither "Goodbye" nor "Mizpah." He couldn't. Those words were for an ending and this could not be the ending, and yet, it was. Earlier in the day his mother had come to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, pausing to look over the book he had been looking through. It had been a long week of waiting and worry, for questions, and now, this, the answer. Today would be the day, the last day Will Herondale would breathe upon this earth.

After that revelation, Tessa had returned to her husband's side, and James took the responsibility of summoning to the Institute those closest to the family. He stood in the Sanctuary as Lucie arrived by Portal from Idris. When his sister walked through the Portal and collapsed into his arms, already knowing her purpose back in London, it didn't feel like they were adults. James was 50 and Lucie was 45, but, in preparing for their father's death, they were children again. That day, the only time James cried was when his sister cried, because Lucie in pain hurt James all the same.

The day wasn't all awful, no, it was full of laughter and reminiscing of time spent with friends, but when time got small and Brother Zachariah arrived from the Silent City, James left the room and went to sit in the dining room, at the end of the long table where he and his family had shared so many meals together. His wife, Cordelia, and their son, Owen, were off somewhere else, at James's request. Lucie was probably visiting with a friend, for however close she was with her brother, for how many obstacles they faced together, this, they could not face. James would see her later, he would cry with her later, and even draw her mourning runes, but that was for later, and now was for quiet reflection.

James closed his eyes as they first quiet notes of the violin came wafting down the hallway like smoke on the air. He thought of his childhood, as a boy in London, and how his father taught him everything he knew about being both a Shadowhunter and a man. He thought of summers in Wales, of mountains and fields, of lying in the tall grass beside a crisp mountain lake, watching clouds float past. James thought of his teen years. They had been full of hate and misguided anger, of questions that were never asked and answers only assumed. He had been such an awful boy and yet his father never lost patience. Will's love for his son had been tested numerous times but it never wavered, and Will had never given up on the boy he had named James, after his own beloved parabatai.

There had been James's adult years. He remembered his wedding to Cordelia, how he had been so nervous, but it was his father, and his parent's marriage which had withstood the test of time, that allowed James the courage to stand before their families and profess to Cordelia that he would take her to be his wife, in sickness and in health. James would no longer have to walk the Earth alone, because Cordelia would always be at his side.

Owen had been born two years into the marriage, and it was his own son's birth that made James finally understand his own father. They had spent years together, the three of them, three generations of Herondales, and now Owen was about to get married to a pretty girl he had been seeing for some time. Children would follow after that, generation after generation, from now until the end of time. People died, yes, but people also lived lives full of love and laughter, hope and joy.

James was like that much later, still sitting in the dining room, thinking and listening, when the last notes of the violin dissolved into the air and Magnus walked in. Magnus had remained Will's friend and Tessa's as well, all these years after their first meeting. It was James's request for this, as he would trust no one else for this.

"He's gone," Magnus said, squaring his shoulders and giving James a nod. James took a breath and put his arms around himself, feeling an ache begin in the center of his chest, just over the place where his own heart still beat. But his father's heart would beat no longer. This was death, it was hard and painful and for James and Will and scores of Herondales that would follow, it was inevitable.

"Mizpah," James whispered then, finally allowing himself to say goodbye.

_And Mizpah; for he said, The Lord watch between me and thee, when we are absent one from another._

* * *

Author's note: Thank you for reading. "Mizpah" quote comes from the Bible. Genesis, 31:49


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